Not Another Diary Story
by DarthMittens
Summary: Just kidding. It's another story about Harry discovering and reading Hermione's diary. This time, though, things turn out a little differently when Harry confronts her about the contents of the diary. After all, Hermione's a Gryffindor. And Gryffindors aren't such cowards that they back down from something as trivial as their best friend discovering their deepest, darkest secrets.


**A/N: Contrary to the somewhat lighthearted title, this story isn't going to be humorous. I'm tired of reading so many 'Hermione has a diary' stories that are all the same, so I decided to write one to show what I believe **_**I **_**would happen in a diary story. I mean come on, a Hermione that cries and is devastated when Harry finds her diary? Psh.**

**Enjoy!**

**Not Another Diary Story**

Hermione was freaking out.

"Where is it?" she muttered under breath, pulling the sheets off her bed frantically. It had been under her mattress. She knew she put it under the mattress after writing her latest entry.

She had put it back under her mattress...right?

"Crap," she said to herself as several images flashed through her mind.

She had accidentally taken her diary to class with her after falling asleep with it the night before. She had woken up late and, thinking her diary was a school book in her panic, had thrown it into her schoolbag with the rest of her books. Harry had so generously offered to carry her school bag and had dropped all of their books after tripping on the stairs. Hermione had grabbed all of her schoolbooks and, thinking her diary was still in her bed, had pushed the book into Harry's bag. It was really too bad she had put a glamour charm on the diary to make it look like a school text that was bound to have worn off by now.

She wondered if Harry would read it. The thought turned her blood ice cold and she sat down heavily on her bed.

If Harry read it...that would be really bad.

It would be really really bad.

* * *

Harry sighed and collapsed back in his bed, pulling his schoolbooks up with him to make sure he didn't miss any homework he needed to do. It was N.E.W.T. year, after all.

He took each book out and set it on the bed next to him as he mentally checked the assignment that went along with it. He did this until he came across a book far smaller than any school textbook he owned. He didn't recognize this book.

Frowning in thought, he opened it and looked inside to find writing that was undoubtedly Hermione's. Harry figured it must have found its way into his bag after he had accidentally dropped the bags simultaneously.

Satisfied that he had finished his homework and eager to get to bed, Harry made to close Hermione's book with the intent of giving it to her the next morning.

Or at least, that was his intent until he caught his name in the midst of her writing. He promptly reopened the book, wondering what part of her schooling could possibly concern him. He flipped to the first page of the book and saw that it was labeled as her diary.

It was at this point that Harry faced one of the biggest decisions of his life. Should he shut it immediately and respect his best friend's privacy? He knew it was the right thing to do. He knew how incredibly angry Hermione would be if she found out that he read her deepest, darkest secrets that he was sure she feared to share with even him.

On the other hand, how could he resist knowing the inner workings and secrets of the smartest brain in Hogwarts who happened to be his best friend? What if she had problems he didn't know about that she was too afraid to tell him about that she needed help with? He knew she would do just that with a problem she had. Ever since they had defeated Voldemort, she had been treating him carefully, trying to make his life as enjoyable as possible. Based on how she had been acting around him, she would most likely not share her problems with him.

Using this roundabout yet valid thought process, Harry decided that it was his responsibility as her best friend to read her diary. So he opened it up and proceeded to read through the entire book, which took him well over three hours.

He learned several things during the time it took to read the diary, the most important thing being that Hermione was completely and utterly in love with him. This, in reality, was great news to him. The truth of the matter was that he had been in love with her for quite awhile now and found himself eagerly looking forward to the next day, when he could tell her his feelings.

The other aspect of Hermione he had learned about was quite different in the aspect that Harry didn't like what he learned at all. The thing was, it seemed that Hermione had changed from the girl he had known and fallen in love with. He had noticed her acting differently around him for a few months now, but did know that her entire demeanor had changed _this much_.

Quite frankly, it confused Harry and made him think twice about whether he really knew Hermione. The Hermione he thought he knew would never act like this. He would also need to talk to her about this the next day.

* * *

Harry found her studying in the common room before school started, her quill in her mouth as she intently read the material. Despite knowing what had happened to Hermione's personality, Harry couldn't help but admire her beauty as she studied, completely oblivious to his presence.

Then Harry steeled his determination and dropped the diary on the table with a loud _smack!_Hermione jumped, her book falling out of her lap as her eyes locked onto her diary. She remained still for a moment, obviously fearing the worst, a fear that was confirmed when her eyes drifted up to meet Harry's.

Harry hated himself for what he was about to do, but he knew it was what needed to be done if he wanted to save Hermione from turning into something she wasn't. "Interesting diary," he said sarcastically, sneering at her.

As expected from what he had read in the diary, Hermione seemed to close up a little and quietly asked, "So you read it?"

Harry laughed derisively. "Of course I read it," he said. "I read about how you loved me and how tortured you felt on the inside because you believed you would never be good enough for me, Harry Potter." Harry's voice grew more and more disgusted as he spoke. "I read about how you cried yourself to sleep some nights because you were afraid I would end up with Ginny or Cho and you would end up all alone. I read about how you planned to stay afraid for the rest of your life that I would be able to read you like you read your precious books and discover your feelings for me." This time he laughed disbelievingly, shaking his head. "I read it all."

Hermione's eyes began filling with tears. He treated her feelings like a joke and it really hurt.

Harry so badly wanted to stop the way he was treating his best friend, yet knew that he was almost there. He would get to her, he knew it, if he could just resist the terrible heartbreak showing on her face.

He snarled, though, as she didn't say anything.

"And look at you sitting there silently, seemingly indifferent about me invading your privacy," he said. "You're just going to cry about it while I stand here and say whatever I want. I know that one from your diary. I also know that you've completely sold out your values as a Gryffindor and have allowed your fear of rejection completely overrule your personality." Then he hit her where it hurt. "You know, for someone so smart, sometimes you can be really stupid."

Hermione's crying immediately stopped and she looked at Harry in shock. "Excuse me?" she said, anger flaring to life in her eyes.

Harry had to stop himself from grinning. That was more like it. "What's the matter now, are you deaf _and_stupid?" He cupped his hands around his mouth, hoping this wouldn't ruin their relationship. Even if it did, though, it was worth it to bring her back to normal. "I called you an idiot," he announced right in her face.

Hermione stood up and put her face close to his. "You're calling me an idiot when I've had to babysit you and Ron for seven years while you do what you call homework?"

"Only took you three times to finally get it through your thick skull," Harry said boredly, Hermione's lips curling into a snarl. Oh Merlin, she was sexy when she was angry. Harry found his will beginning to wane. Nevertheless, he said, "You're also a pathetic excuse for a Gryffindor. There was nothing in your diary but how depressed you were and how much you cried. It was like reading a poorly written suicide note."

Hermione snorted, the anger burning in her eyes making fear simmer in the pit of Harry's stomach. If he played this even the tiniest bit incorrectly, he knew the situation would very quickly spiral out of control.

Hermione said, "That's funny, considering how many times I saved your life because of your idiotic decisions. I went to hell and back with you and you have the gall to insult me by telling me I'm a pathetic excuse for a Gryffindor?"

Harry looked at her contemptuously, his palms sweating. This was getting dangerous. "What are you going to do about it?"

Hermione seemed to be waiting for that question. She seemed to swell to her full height, fury making her magic shoot off in violent red sparks. She grinned maliciously, though surprise hit Harry full force when he saw the tears even thicker in her eyes.

He had taken it too far.

So he resigned himself to fate and took the hard slap across his left cheek. The slap normally wouldn't have been too bad, but there was anger-fuelled magic in it that sent him reeling backwards a couple steps, where his knees buckled as they hit the table Hermione's work was on. He fell flat on his back onto the hard surface of the table, driving the breath out of him.

Hermione took a couple steps up to him and towered over him, her cheeks glistening in the low light. Harry laughed lightly, surprising Hermione out of her rage, and he asked, "Do you feel better yet, Hermione?"

She blinked a few times before raising her shaking hands in front her face. Then, with a surprising burst of strength, she reached down and pulled Harry to his feet by the collar of his shirt. He did his best to stand upright even though the entire floor was tilting underneath him.

He made a quick mental note at that point to make a quick visit to the Hospital Wing after this debacle was over.

First, however, he needed to wait for Hermione to find her voice. She was staring into his eyes with such hurt, anger, and love that he found himself wondering how Hermione's brain managed to handle it all at once.

"You...you..." she said with increasing anger. "You _git_!" she shouted in his face before taking a deep, relieved breath. "Now I feel better," she said, letting go of the collar of his shirt and smiling up at him. "I really needed that. Thanks."

Harry released a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relieved that _his _Hermione seemed to be back. "Then you won't cry if I tell you that I love like a sister and nothing more?" he asked quietly, unable to meet her eyes. The final test.

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, searching for the truth in his eyes, which he was trying his best to keep out of her view. It wasn't a fair test if she could easily cheat on it, after all.

Finally, she said, "While it really, _really_sucks that you don't return my feelings, I think I can manage to hold my head up and at least, now, at this point, say, 'I tried my best.' There's nothing to do about it if you've given your all."

Harry was quiet for a few seconds before letting out a long, loud laugh. She was back.

"I love you, Hermione," he said while laughing, resting his hand on her shoulder for support. The room was spinning dangerously fast, but he managed to meet her eyes seriously and say, "I love you more than you could possibly imagine." Hermione stepped back in shock as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. Harry groaned and said, "Before anything else happens though, you have to get me to the hospital wing."

The world spun faster than Harry ever imagined was possible, then everything went black.

* * *

Later that day, Harry made his way back to Gryffindor tower as he unwrapped the bandage from around his head. Honestly, sometimes Madam Pomfrey could just be downright overbearing. She had already fixed his concussion with magic; what was the point of a bandage at that point?

It was late at night and Hermione hadn't come to visit him once, making Harry think that she was just too busy with her schoolwork to come see him. He cursed his luck that he'd have to wait until the next day to talk to her again. He still needed to hear her response to his confession.

When he made it into the common room, however, he stumbled and frantically fought for his balance as a body topped with a head of bushy hair slammed into his. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry I gave you a concussion!" She looked up at his smiling face. "You were just making me so angry!"

Harry laughed. "That was the plan, silly," he said. "Reading your diary was making me depressed. I needed to see some of that good old-fashioned Hermione attitude and courage." He looked at her skeptically. "How does someone like you get so afraid over telling your best friend you like him as...well, more than a friend?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't know," she admitted sadly. "Love just majorly messed with my head, I guess."

Harry smiled. "I'm glad I snapped you out of your funk then, because I meant what I said earlier before I passed out, and, if you'd have me, I would want nothing more at this moment than to call myself your boyfriend and discover what your lips taste like." Harry frowned thoughtfully. "Based on your study habits, I imagine they taste like quill."

Hermione playfully hit him on the shoulder. "What a rude thing to say," she said, smiling at him mischievously. "I know for a fact that my lips are delicious."

"Oh?" Harry replied, arching an eyebrow at her. "What makes you say that?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged, holding off on her answer for a second. "I don't know..." she said teasingly. "Maybe you should find out for yourself."

Harry reached a hand up to cup Hermione's cheek and slowly leaned in towards her until their noses were mere millimeters apart, Hermione's cheeks now a lovely shade of pink. "And how exactly would I do that?" he asked, his voice slightly huskier than normal.

Hermione shook her head at his antics and leaned in a tiny bit towards him, tilting her head minutely. Now it was their lips that were mere millimeters from connecting. "You would have to kiss me, silly," she said in a very straightforward-manner.

Harry immediately took her up on her granted permission and proceeded to thoroughly kiss her. And it turned out that like with everything else, Hermione was right in saying that her lips were delicious.

There was just something so irresistibly delicious about strawberry mixed with just the tiniest hint of peach.

**A/N: Well that was fun. I'm writing this in the middle of a week full of the largest load of homework I've faced in quite a while (the result of my instructors scheduling all of the big assignments simultaneously), so for those of you who are wondering about the next update to Come Back to Me, it won't be coming for a few days yet, though I hope to put it up this weekend.**

**And to everyone who read the story: Thank you so very much for reading the regurgitated thoughts of my brain and I hope you can do me the most wondrous favor of reviewing!**


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